


If A Sensible Person Went To Hogwarts

by Butternuggets



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And the other plot holes, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Character, Fix-It, Gen, I made this because I was furious at Snape for existing, technically a self insert SURPRISE!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:49:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23784181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butternuggets/pseuds/Butternuggets
Summary: Harry Potter never had any friends in Little Whinging. When a new girl at school defies Dudley's gang, life begins to change for the better.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 31





	1. Making A New Friend

Kate's first day at St Grogory's was going quite well until she noticed the boy sitting alone at the edge of the playground. None of the other children went near him; it seemed as if they were deliberately keeping a metre-wide circle around him at all times. She started to walk towards him but stopped when a girl grabbed her by the arm.

"You're not allowed to talk to him."

Kate blinked, confused. A small crowd of students had started to form around the other girl, deliberately averting their gazes and fiddling absentmindedly with their uniforms.   
"Why not?" Kate asked. The girl squirmed and one of the other children nudged her.

"Because...because Dudley Dursley said so!"

"Who's Dudley Dursley?"

"He's the Freak's cousin!" piped a younger boy. He pointed across to a startlingly large boy leaning up against the school building. A gaggle of lanky, unpleasant-looking boys were laughing uproariously at something he'd just said. Kate's eyes narrowed.

She turned on her heel, shoving through the crowd of protestors and striding purposely up to the boy nicknamed The Freak. He looked up at her as Kate approached; he was a skinny, dishevelled-looking boy in a shabby second-hand uniform. His dark brown hair stuck up in unevenly-cut lumps and his thick round glasses were held together in the middle with sticky tape.

"Hello!" Kate smiled and sat down on the bench beside him. He leaned around her, looking as the other children scattered, their expressions simultaneously horrified and mildly impressed. He sat back and gave Kate a concerned look. "You're not allowed to talk to me. Dudley won't like it." Kate shrugged, legs swinging gently. "I know but I don't really care. Would you like to be friends anyway?"

He gave a small smile and a curt nod. "My name's Kate. What's yours?"

"I'm Harry"

"That's a nice name"

Harry froze, his face paling, as a shadow fell across them. Kate looked up; Dudley Dursley glared down at her, his face quickly turning beetroot-red. He was flanked by a skinny, rat-faced boy, and two other overweight cronies.

"You're not allowed to talk to the Freak!" Dudley thrust a finger at Harry, practically spitting the insult. Harry flinched, glaring ferociously but saying nothing. Kate gritted her teeth and stood up, her arms crossed.

"Why not?"

"Because I said so alright?!"

"Yeah!" chorused Dudley's gang. Kate eyed them. She could probably take the skinny one but she'd need Harry's help to sort out Dudley and the others. Kicking, scratching, biting. Especially biting. She knew to aim for the soft parts.

"You're not. Allowed. To. Talk. To. Him." Dudley was practically spitting, his face a dangerous shade of purple. Kate glared evenly at him, arms still crossed. "Make me."

Everyone froze. The other boys gaped at Dudley who snorted and spluttered, glaring furiously. He glanced around to see if there were any witnesses; one of the teachers on duty nearby had noticed them and was keeping an eye on the situation.

Dudley dropped his finger, turned on his heel, and stormed off. Harry, smiling broadly, watched the rest of the gang waddle after him and turned to Kate. "He won't forget this you know."

"Good" Kate sniffed, head held high, Everybody was determinedly not looking in their direction, backs turned. Well that was fine by her. "They'll come back you know" Harry said wearily, "When the teacher goes away, they'll be back and they'll do..something."

Kate thought for a minute, then grinned. "Come on! I know one place they'll never find us." Harry looked uncertain, but he followed her across the playground. They spent the rest of the break squirrelled away in the library, and continued their new tradition through lunch, certain in the knowledge that neither Dudley nor his gang would ever be caught dead in the place.


	2. A Lot Can Happen In Two Weeks

For the past month, Dudley Dursley had kept up a constant barrage of snide remarks and subtle violence whenever the teacher's back was turned. Harry and Kate did their best to avoid the Gang; they stuck to the library or kept within range of the duty supervisor during lunch breaks. They had been handling things reasonably well, until one day Harry failed to show up to school.

Kate was beginning to get worried. She had been waiting outside the classroom, eyeing the clock as it ticked closer to the first bell. Harry was never normally this late; the Dursleys may have been horrible, but you could set your watch by them.

A familiar plodding gate sent a small shiver up her spine. She turned; Dudley was striding down the corridor, his uniform straining to contain his swaying bulk. 'The Freak's not coming!' Dudley sang, grinning. Kate frowned. "Why not?"

"He's in the cupboard again" Dudley smile widened as he pushed past. Kate stepped forward, trying to block his path. "What do you mean he's in a cupboard?" Dudley shoved her aside and shrugged. "That's where he sleeps. Dad says that Freak's got to be punished, so this time he'll be staying in the cupboard for about-" he frowned, the strain evident on his face as he counted on his fingers. "A month."

Kate's jaw dropped. Harry had never mentioned where he slept before and she had never asked. She'd assumed. naively, that the Dursleys were just lukewarmly compassionate enough to allow Harry his own room. She'd been absolutely certain Dudley would never have put up with sharing his. She was also shocked that Dudley could count.

* * *

Kate spent the rest of the day mulling over her options. She could go to the principle about what Dudley had said, but that would mean that the Dursleys would be called and if no one believed her then they would get away with it and Harry would suffer more.

It would be her word against Dudley's. On the other hand, she couldn't just do nothing. If Dudley was telling the truth, Harry was in serious trouble. Could I go to the house to see for myself? No, that would never work. She couldn't be sure she'd even get past the front door.

When she got home that afternoon, her mother was on her knees in the front garden, tugging some particularly stubborn weeds from amongst the grass. "I think Harry's in trouble." Her mother paused, looking up at her daughter as she wiped her brow. "Why do you think that?"

"Dudley Dursley said that his parents locked Harry in a cupboard. He said that he'll be in there for the next month." Her mother frowned. "I'm sure they haven't done that."

"But what if they have?" Kate said, her hands curling into fists. "Why would Dudley lie to me about it? What can I do?"

Her mother got to her feet and wandered inside, into the kitchen. She sat down at the kitchen table and sighed. "Are you sure that's what Dudley said?"

Kate nodded. "Yes, absolutely."

Her mother nodded. "Alright. Well why don't we go down to the police station and let them know what Dudley said. If the Dursleys really have done that to Harry, they will sort it out".

* * *

Kate didn't hear back from PC Wilkins and Henley. She didn't know what to think. Dudley didn't come to school for two weeks, and the Gang had taken to whispering about her behind her back rather than face-to-face. It wasn't until a third Monday had come and gone that she heard leaden footsteps pounding towards her and a furious Dudley Dursley socked her in the face.

Kate went down in an instant, hands clutching her throbbing face. She squinted up at him, eyes blurry with pain and tears, and punched him squarely in the crotch. Dudley turned puce and let out a low moan, dropping to the floor like a sack of potatoes. By this point the teacher had noticed the commotion and, with help, ferried the two off to the First Aid room.

It later transpired that PC Wilkins and Henley's visit to Number 4 Privet Drive had been a success. Mr and Mrs Dursley had reluctantly let them in and they had discovered Harry squirrelled away in a small cupboard underneath the stairs. They immediately took him into protective custody as well as Dudley, which explained why he had come storming into school in such a foul mood.

Despite all appearances, the officers decided that it was perfectly alright to reunite Dudley with his parents, Harry, on the other hand, was winging his way to a psychiatric and medical care facility in Norfolk, where he would be placed with a foster family that would actually treat him like a human being.

As punishment for the "vile and unprovoked assault on a fellow student", Kate was suspended. Her parents sat her down the following morning and carefully explained that, although they would have to stay in their new home until at least next Christmas, they would be putting her into a new, and hopefully less violent, public school.

They moved the following year when her father received a promotion from work. She never saw the Dursleys again.


	3. The Letter From Someone

Kate loved her new bedroom. From her perch on the window ledge she could see far across the rolling fields surrounding Bourton-On-The-Water. The attic wasn't large, but it had enough room for her bookcase; the shelves were filled to bursting and small piles of novels had begun to accumulate at the foot of her bed. Her second-hand dresser and wardrobe sat against the far wall atop a fake Persian rug.

Her bed was pushed up against the wall beneath the window. She turned back to it, grabbed the pair of binoculars resting on her pillow, and had just started to focus them on an interesting-looking bird when she heard her mother call for her to come downstairs.

Kate lowered the collapsible ladder, making a mental note to add 'rope pirate ladder' to her Christmas list, and scurried along the landing and down into the hall. "This lady would like to talk to you" said her mother, gesturing politely towards the stranger who was hovering by the front door. "She's from the local school board."

An explosion of salt and pepper curls billowing out from beneath a worn, patched hat surround the woman's round pink face. She smiled warmly down at Kate; she was a head shorter than Kate's mother and her frayed, slightly-dirty dress matched the antique clutch purse grasped in her hands.

"Pomona Sprout, how do you do?"

"Very well, thank you" Kate replied. Professor Sprout smiled at her again and followed Kate's mother into the living room. Kate sat on the lounge; Professor Sprout sat opposite, looking apologetic as she opened her purse and began rummaging around inside.

"I'm afraid my news might come as a bit of a shock" She said, passing Kate a parchment-coloured envelope as she spoke. Kate took it; the address was written in green ink and said:

Miss K. Richardson  
The Attic Bedroom  
6 Bakewell Drive  
Bourton-On-The-Water

_Weirdly specific. Wait..how do they know where my bedroom is?_

Kate glanced back up at Professor Sprout, who was smiling encouragingly at her. She looked back down at the envelope, turning it over to reveal an old-fashioned wax seal. She broke the seal with her thumb and pulled out the letter.

"Dear Miss Richardson, we are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry-is this a joke?" Kate said quickly, passing the letter to astonished mother. Professor Sprout shook her head. "It's absolutely serious" she said cheerfully, opening her purse once again and withdrawing her wand.

With a small flick of her wrist, she sent the coffee table leaping into the air, changing colour and transforming into a brown bat. Kate beamed, slapping her hands across her mouth as she emitted shrill shrieks of delight. "You will be starting school on the first of September. Now Hogwarts is a boarding school, so I'm afraid you will be away from your parents until school holidays."

"Are you sure our daughter's a witch?" Mrs Richardson interrupted, clutching the letter. Kate froze, suddenly terrified that there had been a mistake. She had never exhibited any signs of magic that she was aware of; of course it had been a mistake! Her lip started to wobble and she felt teardrops prick the corners of her eyes.

Professor Sprout shook her head. "No, there is no mistake. When a child with magical powers is born in Britain, their name is entered into the Hogwarts registry for their eleventh year. When that year comes up, we send out special envoys-" She paused and pointed to herself, "-to deliver their letters to them and explain the situation. There has never been a mistake."

Kate felt slightly encouraged by this and blinked back the tears. Professor Sprout restored the coffee table to its original form and began to talk about school fees and uniform levees with Mrs Richardson. Kate grabbed the letter and read it all the way through. She fished the supply list out of the envelope and let out a muffled shriek, bouncing up and down furiously flapping her hands when she read 'broomstick'.

"I CAN HAVE A BROOMSTICK?!' She whipped around, tugging on her mother's arm. "I can't fly it because I'm only a first year but I CAN HAVE A BROOMSTICK!" She bounced up and down for the rest of Professor Sprout's visit, waving furiously as the woman wandered away down the street.

It was very hard to sleep that night. Kate had always believed that the world was bigger than people said. Now she had proof. She burrowed deeper into her blanket, gazing fondly up at the stars, and giggled, thinking about the interesting times ahead.


	4. Diagon Alley

Although Kate had only managed to drift off to sleep at one o'clock in the morning, she practically bounced out of the station as the group made their way down Charing Cross.

Professor Sprout had met them at the platform; she was wearing a comfortable-looking patchwork of wool and cotton, underneath a long, battered coat. Her old hat was squashed firmly on her head, and she paused every now and then to catch her breath.

Kate adored London. Her parents took her on sporadic trips to the British Museum whenever they could, and she had seen just about every historical tourist trap the city offered. The filthy, grimy underbelly of street hawkers and shadows lurking in alleyways, the tourists with their cameras, the locals shouting and laughing as they clambered down the street. Kate couldn't get enough of the place.

"Here we are, the Leaky Cauldron!" At first glance it looked no different than any of the numerous down-at-the-heel traditional pubs. The mullioned window panes were foggy with age, and the rusty iron sign hanging above the front door squeaked in the breeze. But Mr and Mrs Richardson spent a full minute blinking owlishly at it, then gasped in surprise. Kate smiled; she was pleased that she'd been able to see it so easily.

When they entered they passed by a red-faced, elderly gentleman who was standing behind the bar. He nodded a greeting and went back to cleaning the glasses with an old cloth. The patrons were a mixed bunch; there was a group of little old ladies sitting around a table, and something swathed in black lurking in a dark corner which had large pointy ears. Kate skirted around a hooded individual who, judging by his elongated fingers and bone-white skin, she was absolutely convinced was a vampire.

"Hullo Quirrell, afraid we can't stop!"

Professor Sprout waved cheerfully at a thin young man in a purple turban as they passed through the back door of the pub and out into a tiny courtyard. "Professor Quirrell will be taking over the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts this year. Hopefully he stays a bit longer than the others; I'm afraid we've had a pretty poor run of teachers leaving that department of late."

"Why's that?"

Professor Sprout pulled her wand from her pocket and shrugged. "I'm afraid I don't know. Now stand back please and remember-" she gestured towards a small knot of bricks in the middle of the wall. "-these are the ones you want." She tapped them three times with her wand. The bricks jostled and shifted, a hole forming in the middle of the knot. The hole widened until they were standing before a large archway with a cobbled street lined with shops beyond. Kate blinked, pinched the back of her hand discreetly to make sure she wasn't asleep, and took a step forward.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley!"

Noise assaulted her from all direction; owls hooted from store fronts and voices raised and lowered in pitch as they walked along. There were bushels of herbs drying on racks, large piles of cauldrons with signs in front of them, and people walking about everywhere in robes. Her parents nearly slammed into the back of her when they passed Flourish and Blotts; when they reached Quality Quidditch Supplies, her father had to practically carry her to get her to away from it.

"Yes you will be learning to fly a broomstick at school but I'm afraid first years must borrow theirs from the Hogwarts supply" explained Professor Sprout, as they reached the end of the street. Looming over them was an imposing, slightly lop-sided building with Gringotts emblazoned across it in large golden letters. They climbed the white marble steps, and Kate read the inscription on the frosted glass door.

"What does it mean by 'finding more than treasure there'?"

"Well," said Professor Sprout, pushing the door open, "According to local gossip, the lower vaults of the bank are guarded by dragons." Kate nodded; that made a lot of sense. Dragons were notorious for protecting treasure; what better security system for a magical bank than a twenty-foot fire-breathing menace? She hoped they were feeding them well.

There were goblins everywhere. Some of them looked quite similar to the pictures Kate had seen in books of fairy tales, but for the most part they were beady-eyed and short, with clever faces and sharp pointed smiles. They joined a short queue and were served by a female goblin, Lockfang, who exchanged the wad of cash the Richardsons had brought for a bag of unusual coins.

"Where shall we go first hmm?" asked Professor Sprout. Kate looked over her mother's arm as she consulted the supply list the school had sent.

"Why don't we get everything in order?" her father suggested.

"Alright then" said Professor Sprout. She gestured across the street; a brightly-lit shop with dressmakers dummies in the window beckoned them forward. The dummies were fitted with robes and cloaks of various designs, and had been enchanted to move around whenever someone approached.

A squat woman in mauve looked up as the bell above the door jingled, and cheerfully bustled over.

"Hogwarts dear?"

Kate nodded, and the lady ushered her towards the back of the shop. The fitting room was a half-moon of mirrors, foot stools and pin cushions. Kate stepped up onto a stool and the witch pulled a long black robe over her head and began to pin it into the right length. A shiver of excitement ran through her. _This was really happening! Magic, real magic, was real and happening to her! WOO!_

They paid for the robes and headed towards Flourish and Blotts. Kate strolled confidently through the shop, playing find-the-book until they had the complete collection. She added a copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ to her pile and almost got away with sneaking in _Moste Potent Potions_ before Professor Sprout noticed and gently but firmly persuaded her parents not to buy it. Apparently it was "too advanced" for her just yet.

"Are there any books about the history of the magical world?" Kate asked, when they approached the counter to pay. The attendant got up from his seat and came back with a copy of Modern Magical History, which they bought as well. Pleased, Kate scampered happily down the street, drinking in the sights and peering longingly at the broomsticks which were hung outside Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"Am I really not allowed my own broomstick yet?" she wheedled. Professor Sprout shook her head apologetically and steered her towards a shabby store with one wand sitting alone in the window.

The shop was silent and looked like the inside of an enormous archive. Row upon row of wooden boxes sat in neat little piles on sets of wooden shelves. There was a single chair tucked away behind the door for customers to perch on, and there didn't seem to be any staff around.

"Good afternoon"

Everybody jumped except for Professor Sprout.

The elderly gentleman had appeared out of nowhere; he was wearing plain robes of rich velvet, and his wispy white hair stuck up from his head in several directions.

"Got a first year here for her wand Mr Ollivander" Professor Sprout beamed, proudly. Ollivander crooked a finger and Kate stepped forward. He pulled a long measuring tape with silver markings from within a pocket and hesitated expectantly.

"Which is your wand arm?"

Kate, thinking, held out her right arm, and Ollivander started taking measurements. He drifted off towards the shelves, muttering to himself, as the measuring tape continued on without him. "That will do" he said, returning from his walk. The measuring tape dropped to the floor and he presented a box to Kate.

"Try this please; a lovely ash with unicorn hair; Nine and a half inches. Just give it a wave."

Kate did as she was told but after half a minute Ollivander took the wand back off her.

"No, no, that will not do I'm afraid. Wait here please."

He wandered back down the aisles and came back with another box. Kate tried another wand, then another, and another; she was beginning to get worried, thinking that she was never going to find a wand that was suitable. She couldn't go to Hogwarts without a wand!

Ollivander scurried back from the bowels of the shop, holding yet another box. "Spruce with unicorn hair. Ten and three fourths; quite bendy. Impressive, in the right hands. We shall see won't we, hmm?" He handed over the wand and stepped back. Kate swallowed her growing doubts, gripped the handle lightly, and flicked.

Bubbles erupted from the tip of the wand, accompanied by a shower of sparkling glitters. She squealed with delight, jumping up and down as her parents gasped and Professor Sprout started applauding.

"Well done! Yes, well done indeed!"

Kate reluctantly handed the wand back and Ollivander packed it away gently in its box. As her parents paid, Kate peppered Ollivander with questions about wand care and the different types of wands available. After Ollivander bowed them out of his shop, Kate pulled the wand from its case, looked it over, and slipped it into her pocket. It stuck out a little, so she pulled her jacket closer to her to hide it.

"Is it possible to do magic without a wand?" she queried. Professor Sprout nodded.

"Yes, it is possible, however it is extremely difficult to do so. Hogwarts teaches its student to perform wordless magic, but only after your third year."

They ambled along to Eeylops Owl Emporium just as a dark-haired boy walked out clutching a snowy owl in a cage. Kate froze, blinking, her jaw dropping.

" _HARRY?!_ "

She sprinted forward and flung herself around Harry, who only just managed to put the cage down in time. He hugged her back, beaming.

" _YOU'RE-A-WIZARD-HOW-ARE-YOU-WHERE-ARE-YOUR-GLASSES_?"

She stepped back a little but kept a hand on either shoulder. Harry was bulkier than he had been, his long, lanky frame thicker, less anaemic. His scruffy hair had been professionally cut and his clothes were a little worn but looked relatively new. He wasn't wearing his glasses but he didn't seem to be having any trouble seeing.

"Yeah" Harry grinned, and looked over his shoulder at a couple who had just appeared behind him. "Mum and Dad paid for eye surgery. I don't need glasses anymore."

Kate leaned around him and gave the couple a once-over. The man was blonde, curly-haired and of average height. He was wearing a red sweater and holding a fistful of shopping bags. His wife was tall and elegantly-dressed, with thin black hair cut into a bob. She beamed nervously, blushing, at Kate. Kate squinted, pursed her lips, and nodded.

"I approve."

The couple relaxed with small sighs of relief. Harry grinned.

"Adam Jones" Harry's foster father shook Kate's hand, smiling. "And this is Maggie, my wife."

"Hello"

She shook Kate's hand as well.

"Are they treating you well?"

Harry nodded. "I've got my own room now. They're alright."

Adam chuckled and ruffled Harry's hair. A shadow passed over them and Kate looked up into an enormous, ruddy face.

" 'Allo there!"

"Hagrid! Wonderful to see you" exclaimed Professor Sprout. "Helping young Harry buy his supplies, I see" Hagrid drew himself up proudly, beaming.

"Dumbledore asked me himself. Great man, that Dumbledore. An' what are you buyin' today eh?" Hagrid asked, turning back to Kate.

"I bought Harry his birthday present" he gestured at the owl by Harry's feet, "Owls are helpful fer carryin' messages and the like. Smart creatures, owls."

Kate bent down; the owl blinked at her austerely, and cocked its head to the side. "Hello! My name's Kate." Harry knelt down beside her and stuck a finger between the bars of the cage. The owl shuffled forward and pushed its beak against it, chittering quietly.

"What are you going to call it?"

Harry shrugged. "I've no idea. She's a girl, by the way."

"Come along children, onwards and upwards!" Professor Sprout stepped aside as the children entered the shop. The smell of urine and dropping filled the musty air, and Kate was slightly overwhelmed by the amount of eyes staring back at her from along the walls.

Kate wandered slowly around the room. Owls, cats and toads of every size and colour stood beside hissing snakes and several giant tortoises with bright, bejewelled shells. Kate cooed over a tiny baby tortoise with small aquamarine crystals set into its back, but reluctantly decided against it.

"No you don't!"

She jumped, startled, as a small black lump came hurtling across the floor and scuttled, hissing, up her leg. The harried-looking witch who had rushed out from behind the counter began to splutter profuse apologies but Kate was barely listening.

The small black kitten hissed at the approaching woman, its mismatched eyes filled with hatred. Kate reached down and carefully peeled it off her trouser leg. It mewled pitifully at her and scraped a rough tongue against the tip of her nose. "I'm going to call you Smudge."

They paid for the kitten and spent the train ride home together, swapping stories and addresses along the way. Harry invited her up to his house in Gloucester, and Kate promised to do so as soon as possible. Their respective familiars were getting on like a house on fire; Smudge, mewling and prodding, had stared with great curiosity at Harry's owl. The owl had hooted back at him, amused and interested by the small fluffy ball. Eventually Smudge clambered up onto the top of the cage and they both drifted off to sleep.


	5. The Last Days of Summer

Harry's bedroom was not what Kate had been expecting at all. The walls were painted a garish shade of purple that Harry had chosen as a joke, not believing that his new parents would really get _whatever_ colour he picked.

'It's not that bad!' he sniffed, as Kate fell about laughing.

Harry's owl had her own roosting box at the bottom of the garden but she preferred to sleep at the end of Harry's bed. The neighbours had given them a lot of funny looks when they'd first brought her home, and Mrs Slatter, the elderly woman next door, had checked to make sure they had an exotic pet license. Thankfully no one had called the local council with any complaints.

The owl and Smudge had become fast friends. Smudge was still a little on the small side for a kitten, but his straggly black fur had become sleek and fluffy, and his brown and green eyes gleamed. His favourite place to sit was wrapped around Kate's shoulders, his head burrowed comfortingly into the hollow of her neck.

Harry and Kate were sitting in the middle of the floor, flipping through their school textbooks, trying to find a name for Harry's owl. Kate showed Harry a page in _Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them_.

'What about "Plimpy"?'

Harry looked at it, snorted, and shook his head.

'I am _not_ naming her after a fish.'

The owl perched on Harry's shoulder peered down at the creature on the page, puffed up her chest and screeched with outrage. They carried on for a few more minutes until Harry paused, thoughtfully.

'How about Hedwig?'

He propped A History of Magic up so Kate could see the page; a short biography had been printed next to a picture of a regal-looking, stern Germanic witch.

'What do you think?' asked Kate, taking the book from Harry and showing it to the owl. She studied it for a minute then hooted, pleased, and affectionately nibbled Harry's hand. He grinned, stroking her lightly.

'I think that's a yes!'

* * *

The rest of the day was spent cycling round the outskirts of Upton St Leonards, slipping quickly along hidden forest trails until at last they came to Sud Brook. It was a hot day so they took off their shoes and sat on the shore, their feet dangling in the water. Kate glanced over at Harry and frowned.

'Are you okay?'

Harry looked a little nervous, as if he wanted to talk about something but didn't quite know how to begin. Kate smiled sympathetically.

'I…read about what happened to your parents.'

Harry looked up sharply, startled.

'It was in Modern Magical History. 'I couldn't believe it.'

Harry sighed, nodding. 'Hagrid told me what happened. I couldn't believe it either.'

'It sounds like you're famous.'

'I don't want to be. Especially not for…'

'Yeah.'


	6. September First

September first dawned hot, with a clear cloudless blue sky. Harry had slept over at Kate's house the night before and both children awoke to the smell of frying bacon and freshly-squeezed orange juice. There was a mad dash to gather up all their unpacked bits and bobs, but eventually their trunks were packed and they were on their way towards London.

Harry's parents met them at the station and there was a lot of gushing about how grown up the children looked. Maggie, and Kate's mother Felicity, whipped out their cameras and took the traditional first-day-of-term photographs; Kate and Harry standing side by side, beaming, their backs against iron fenceposts with a 'Kings Cross Station' sign looming ponderously overhead. Professor Sprout had given them directions to Platform Nine and Three Quarters but Kate still felt a wriggle of uncertainty in her gut as she squared up the pillar with her trolley.

'Do you want me to go first?' Harry offered, but Kate shook her head and steeled herself.

In a few moments she was stumbling forward alongside a bright red steam train, great gouts of blue-grey smoke billowing from its black funnel.

'Now remember, don't spend it all at once' said Felicity, handing Kate a small coin purse.

She hugged and kissed her parents goodbye; Smudge wound himself around their legs, purring loudly and rubbing his head against their ankles. Kate picked him up and tucked him into the front of her jumper as her father, Basil, hauled her trunk up onto the train. She clambered onboard, Harry following, and they waved goodbye one final time as their parents disappeared into the smoke.

They hauled their trunks into the first empty compartment they could find and were just settling in when the door opened and a plump boy shuffled nervously into view. He put one foot inside the compartment before he noticed the two; letting out a small startled squeak, he jumped backwards and tumbled over his trunk.

'Are you alright?' Harry exclaimed, rushing over and helping the boy up off the floor. He nodded, blushing furiously, and massaged an ankle ruthfully.

'You can sit with us, we don't bite' Kate smiled. She heaved the boy's trunk under the seat beside hers and he sat down.

'I'm Kate, this is Harry'

The boy froze suddenly as Smudge unwound himself from Hedwig's cage and wandered over.

'And this is Smudge. He's very friendly.'

The boy hadn't unclasped his right hand through the entire conversation and as he pressed it protectively to his chest Kate realised that he was clutching a large toad.

'Smudge, come here' she pulled her cat back onto her lap, then slowly brought him up level with the amphibian's beady brown eyes.

'It's alright' she said soothingly, as the other boy turned pale, 'Smudge won't hurt your toad. He just wants to sniff him to figure out what he is, that's all. Then he'll leave him alone, I promise.'

Smudge sniffed the toad's rubbery nose, then wriggled out of Kate's grip and wandered back over to Hedwig.

'I'm-I'm Neville Longbottom' said the boy, as the colour returned to his face. He relaxed a bit and brought the toad down onto his lap, where it sat in a sour-looking lump on his knees. 'This is Trevor. Great-uncle Algie bought him for me, for getting into Hogwarts.' Trevor leapt onto the chair opposite, and let out a loud, wet croak.

The train gave a sudden start, the children lurching in their seats. Neville dashed over to the window, tripping over Harry's feet, and waved furiously out at an elderly, stern-looking woman in a neat green dress.

'Does that-her hat- _is she wearing a dead vulture?!_ '

Neville blushed scarlet.

'That's my grandmother.'

' _AWESOME!_ '

* * *

The journey was pleasant enough, Neville slowly opening up the more the other children chatted and peppered him with questions about the wizarding world.

'My family thought I might have been a Squib,' he explained, 'Uncle Algie was always trying to force some magic out of me by giving me little shocks. He pushed me off Blackpool Pier once. I nearly drowned.'

'That's a bit more than 'a shock' ' Kate said, aghast. Neville shrugged.

'Gran rescued me so it was alright. The last time he tried, he was dangling me out of our upstairs window when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a slice of meringue and he accidently let go. I bounced, all the way down the garden and into the road. Everybody was so pleased; Gran was crying, she was so happy.'

'I'm sorry-' said Kate, interrupting, '-but surely there are better ways of figuring out if you're magical than having a relative suddenly try to murder you.' Neville shook his head.

'Isn't there some sort of test?'

'No. They would have made me take it, if there was.'

'Hmm, yeah. My grandmother, too.'

That had been a shock. Kate's grandmother had come around to congratulate her on getting into boarding school. The word 'Hogwarts' had worked its way quite quickly into the conversation; she'd sat bolt upright, then a beaming smile had slid across her face.

'Apparently my great grandmother was a witch, but her only daughter, my grandmother, is a Squib. They raised her as a Muggle so she wouldn't feel too left out but now I'm here, bringing everything back around again. She was really pleased.'

'My parents were magical too' Harry piped up. 'But they..died. I've got a new Mum and Dad now though.' He flattened his fringe self-consciously. 'I think my family were all wizards and witches, but it doesn't really matter.'

' _Crroooaaakkk!_ '

Kate nearly jumped out of her skin. She looked down at her feet; on the floor, directly opposite her left ankle, sat Trevor, glaring daggers at Smudge as the cat backed him into the doorframe. They had opened the door to let in a cross breeze and he had obviously been trying to escape but Smudge had him gently pinned down with a paw. He looked like the world's angriest mud pie.

'I don't think he's very happy' Harry mused, as Neville strode over and pulled Trevor away from Smudge. Neville nodded sadly.

'He's always trying to run off' he admitted. Kate patted his arm consolingly.

'Why don't you let him go?' asked Harry. Neville shrugged.

'He was a gift. He-he's my friend..'

'You'll make new friends' said Harry gently. He gestured between the three of them. 'You've made two already.'

* * *

Hours passed.

The lunch trolley came and went, and soon the sun was setting in the afternoon sky and it began to grow dark. Organised fields gave way to wild, twisting woodland; Kate, who had been wearing her robes since the train pulled out of the station, waited patiently outside the compartment while the boys put on theirs.

Trevor had made three more unsuccessful escape attempts and was now locked securely in the bottom of Hedwig's cage. The owl sat imperiously on Harry's shoulder, occasionally hooting and nibbling his ear. Smudge was curled up, purring, in Neville's lap; he opened an eye every now and then, before going back to sleep.

The train appeared to be slowing down, and sure enough a booming voice echoed through the carriage.

'We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.'

Kate leapt to her feet, stuffing the remaining sweets from lunch into a pocket and scooping Smudge up onto her shoulders. Neville retrieved Trevor from Hedwig's cage as Harry put the owl back, and the boys trailed shakily after Kate as she stepped out into the crowded carriageway.

Kate looked back; Neville looked green and there was a slight sheen of sweat on his brow. Harry was paler than usual; Kate reached over and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

'Come on, we'll be fine'

She smiled, and Harry smiled weakly back.

She was a little nervous but the excitement was winning. She bounced impatiently on the balls of her feet until she saw a break in the crowd of students ahead of her and, grabbing Neville and Harry by the wrist, she dashed forward, out the carriage door and out into the cold, night air.

They had arrived.


	7. First Impressions

Kate huddled in one of the lines forming behind Hagrid, stamping her feet against the evening chill. The first years followed the lumbering caretaker down a twisting forest path to the edge of the lake. A flotilla of boats bobbed gently beside a wooden pier.

Kate clambered eagerly aboard, helping Neville as his foot caught on the lip of the boat and he nearly tumbled in. Trevor plopped from his grasp with onto the shore with a furious croak; Neville quickly scooped him up, hesitated, and then gently put the toad back down.

'Goodbye Trevor' murmured Neville tearfully; the toad let out on last long croak and hopped away into the dark. Neville sniffed and rubbed his eyes with a sleeve as the boat lurched forward under them, pulling forward, away from the dock. Kate reached an arm around his shoulder and gave him a tight squeeze.

'That was very brave' she whispered gently. Neville nodded and gave a watery smile.

As the boats turned a bend and the rest of the lake unravelled before them, Kate gasped. The castle looming above them on the furthest shore was breathtaking; butter-yellow light shone brightly from various windows, like a thousand friendly eyes watching over the students slowly approaching the shore. Kate had never seen such a beautiful sight.

She sat in awestruck silence next to Neville, who kept muttering 'Wow!'. They were so distracted that, as the boats entered a cave embedded in the shoreline, a low-hanging clump of ivy smacked them in the face.

'Oh, eew!' Kate bunched her sleeves up and began rubbing her face. Neville coughed and spluttered, and nearly fell backwards off his seat.

The boats creaked to a halt, everyone disembarking slowly and following Hagrid back up to the surface along a tunnel carved through the rock. A smooth stone staircase led up to a large wooden door, which swung open to reveal a tall, black-haired woman in beautiful emerald robes.

'The firs' years, Professor McGonagall,' said Hagrid.

'Thankyou, Hagrid. I will take them from here,' Professor McGonagall pulled the door wide and herded the students across a stone courtyard lit by flaming torches. Kate jiggled happily; she had visited many castles on holidays with her parents, but never at night. It felt like she had stepped back in time.

There was a loud stream of conversation filtering through a doorway to their right as the students entered a hall, but Professor McGonagall strode past it and into a little room just off to the side. Everybody piled in, forming a nervous semi-circle around her as she stood upright, hands clasped in front of her. Kate swallowed; she was sure Professor McGonagall was a lovely person, but the stern expression on her face was a little off-putting. Neville quivered slightly beside her; she slipped her hand into his and gave him a reassuring smile.

'Welcome to Hogwarts,' said Professor McGonagall, in a pleasant Scottish lilt, 'The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common-room.'

_Huh, sounds a little like prison. Are we allowed to visit other dorms? What about exploring the school grounds?_

'The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards.'

_Yep, one of them's standing right here._

'While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour.'

Kate imagined for a moment being handed a shiny gold cup like the ones they had handed out for excellence at her old school. She had never been a particularly note-worthy student academically or athletically, but she was sure she could earn a handful of points at least. Maybe she'd get lucky and her house would win.

'The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school.' Neville visibly flinched; Kate turned to him and patted his elbow soothingly.

'You'll be fine' she whispered. Neville, pale and sweating, shook his head slightly.

'I suggest you smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.' Professor McGonagall's eyes brushed over the crowd, lingering on certain people. Kate stood up firmly, acutely aware of her polished black boots and her long straight hair pulled back into a neat plait.

Professor McGonagall left the chamber. The crowd parted before Kate as Harry stepped through, looking nervous.

'I thought-I thought we were going to be sorted in private!' squeaked Neville.

'What is the Sorting Ceremony?' asked Harry.

'They make us wear the Sorting Hat' Neville wiped his sweaty palms on the front of his robes, 'And the hat decides which house we're in.'

'Does it light up or something?' Kate tilted her head quizzically. Neville shook his head.

'No, it's…um..it can talk'

Kate let out a short, sharp burst of laughter, her mouth turning up into a wide smile. 'A talking hat, of course! That makes perfect sense.'

This sounded a little _Faraway Tree_ ; Kate was beginning to wonder just how much Enid Blyton had known about the magical world. Or any of her favourite authors, for that matter. 'The Sorting Ceremony should be a piece of cake then! Why are you so worried?'

'It-it matters which house you're in. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw are where all the clever people go. Nobody likes Slytherin. And Hufflepuff is where the rest go, the ones that..that aren't good enough for the other houses.' Neville hung his head, cheeks flushed with shame. 'I-I'm probably going to be in Hufflepuff.'

'Nonsense! You're good enough for any of them!' Kate gave Neville a slight shake. 'Besides, a school house is nothing. It only counts on sports day, and even then-'

Several small screams erupted on the other side of the room as a group of translucent figures came gliding through the wall. Kate's jaw dropped.

'…Ghosts' she said, in a small voice. Harry nodded slowly.

'That's..that's a ghost.' Kate pointed a finger shakily. Harry nodded slowly again.

'-gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not even really a ghost- I say, what are you al doing here?' A Shakespeare-esque ghost in an old-fashioned ruff had finally noticed the children milling around. A jolly-looking friar with a massive pot belly hovering beside him smiled at the crowd.

'New students! About to be sorted, I suppose? Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know.'

'Move along now'

Kate nearly jumped out her skin as Professor McGonagall's voice rang out.

'The Sorting Ceremony's about to start.'

Children dove out of the way as the ghosts drifted away through the far wall, Professor McGonagall stepping forward into the room.

'Now, form a line, and follow me.'

Kate hurried after Harry as the crowd stepped through the carved wooden doors into the Great Hall. She spared the room a quick glance, staring enraptured up at the enchanted roof and the clear night sky it was projecting.

'Look, floating candles!' whispered Harry.

'Harry, I love you dearly but _**bugger the floating candles, those were ghosts!**_ '

The line came to a stop, everybody bunching in a small semi-circle around a raised bit of floor. A wooden stool sat in the middle of the platform; sitting on that was a large lump of tattered, creased leather which was slumped upright in a loose triangular shape.

'..that's a hat?' said Kate incredulously. She shook herself and turned back to Harry.

'Those were ghosts! Honest to God, actual, real ghosts! I mean-'

Neville tapped her on the arm; she looked at him then followed his gaze, looking back to the battered Sorting Hat. A wide hole split open in the front of it and it began to sing.

'Oh, you may not think I'm pretty, but don't judge on what you see,'

'It's very good, isn't it?' Kate muttered. Harry nodded.

Neville leant in. 'Apparently it sits in Dumbledore's office all year, thinking up a new school song.'

'It must get awfully bored' said Harry. Kate snorted, imagining a horde of ghosts crowded around the hat, one holding a dictionary while the others argued about syntax. The Sorting Hat, a pair of pince-nez spectacles perched on a folded crease, dictated from its perch on a shelf in a non-descript office.

The Sorting Hat finished its song and Kate applauded, looking properly around the room. It was beautiful, polished oak beams supporting a high vaulted ceiling, white marbled floor tiles gleaming in the flickering candlelight. The teachers were sitting behind a long trestle-like table directly ahead of them; a Merlin-looking man in the most stereotypical wizard's robes Kate had ever seen was smiling with grandfatherly affection down at the rest of the school. Professor McGonagall produced a scroll from within her robes and held up the Sorting Hat in her other hand.

'When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,' she said, clearing her throat and holding the scroll up slightly higher. 'Abbot, Hannah..'

Kate jiggled impatiently as name after name rang out.

'Jones, Harry!' Kate squeezed Harry's shoulder and nudged him gently forward.

'Good luck' she whispered. Harry nodded, face pale. He walked shakily up to the platform and sat on the stool, the hat coming down and covering his eyes. Neville gripped Kate's arm and they watched breathlessly for a few minutes until the Sorting Hat stirred. The tear that served as its mouth opened up and it bellowed loudly for all to hear.

'HUFFLEPUFF!'

Kate squealed and jumped up and down, clapping as Harry walked off to a cheering table on the far righthand side. After the noise died down, Professor McGonagall continued working her way through the list. Soon it was Neville's turn, Kate giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder. She winced as he stumbled over his own feet halfway to the stool, but he made it and jammed the hat down onto his head.

'GRYFFINDOR!'

Neville took off sprinting, the hat still on his head, peels of laughter ringing throughout the hall. Kate shoved past the other children and quickly intercepted him, plucking the hat from his head and handing it to another boy who had wandered forward for his turn. 'Congratulations!' she said. Neville blushed crimson, grinning from ear to ear.

It seemed an age until Professor McGonagall finally called out 'Richardson, Kate'. She squared her shoulders, took a shaky, excited breath, and walked over to the stool. Her stomach clenched excitedly as the hat slipped over her eyes.

'Hmm, reasonably clever'

Kate jumped, startled, a voice suddenly muttering right next to her ear.

'Easily distracted…loyal…hard-working..'

_Is that the hat?_

'Yes, I'm the hat.'

_YOU CAN HEAR MY THOUGHTS?!_

'Please don't shout but yes, I can'

_Seems invasive_

Kate sensed the hat shrug.

'Godric Gryffindor believed that it would make an excellent impartial sorting system.'

Kate's eyes narrowed.

Before she could dispute the wisdom of the ancients, she felt the hat shift slightly on her head and a muffled voice boomed out across the Great Hall.

'SLYTHERIN!'

_Aaaaww_

Kate's shoulders slumped slightly, a part of her welling up with mild disappointment. She had been hoping to end up in the same house as either Harry or Neville, but it had not occurred to her that the trio might be split up separately between three.

There was a low hissing noise to her right; two identical older boys, red-haired twins, were standing up at the table along the far wall, hands cupped in front of their mouths, hissing and booing loudly. She poked her tongue defiantly back at them and strode over to join her new housemates.

'Shuffle up' an older boy with reddish blonde hair nudged his friend, both moving to make room. Kate smiled and slipped into the space.

'Thank you'

'Andy' the boy held out a hand; Kate shook it.

'Kate'

* * *

The last of the students dispersed to their new houses and the chatter died down as the white-haired man- clearly Headmaster Albus Dumbledore- stood up. He spread his arms wide in welcome, beaming out at the hall.

'Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!'

A flicker of colour caught the corner of Kate's eye. She turned and gasped; the polished golden plates were heaving with food, piled high with all sorts of meat, vegetables, and sauces.

'Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!'

Kate clapped as Dumbledore sat down, and turned back around to face the food.

'Father says Dumbledore's gone mad' a voice piped up. Kate glanced down the table; a blonde boy was sneering up at the headmaster like he could smell something unpleasant.

'I like him, I think he's funny' said Kate. The boy rolled his eyes with a snort.

'He's an old loon.'

'Professor Dumbledore is … eccentric'

A blank-eyed, gaunt ghost bound in chains suddenly materialised from beneath the table. He was solid to a point; staring at him was like looking at an illuminated statue made from frosted glass. Kate tried not to stare at the silvery blood staining the front of his robes.

Puncture wounds were visible if she squinted at the right angle; a cluster of deep holes in his chest just above his heart, partially hidden by the fold of his clothes. The blonde boy suddenly looked extremely uncomfortable.

' 'Sup Baron, how'you doin'?' asked the burly second-year sitting on Andy's left, around a mouthful of mashed potatoes. The Baron inclined his head towards them.

'I have been well, Master Bunder'

Kate bit down hard on a drumstick, stifling a laugh. Andy noticed, smiled, and gave her a friendly nudge in the ribs.

'Do you normally come to the school feast?' asked a brown-haired girl. The baron nodded.

'We enjoy them very much' he said, gesturing. Kate looked over her shoulder; the crowd of ghosts from before had split up and were wafting above the other houses.

'It must be pretty quiet here when there's no students' Kate said. The Baron shrugged.

'It is somewhat less crowded. The portraits are good company, as are my fellow ghosts, however I much prefer the castle ringing with the sound of academia.'

'And Quidditch' grinned Andy. A small smile flickered across the Baron's face.

'Indeed. No doubt we shall continue, our triumphant winning streak for another year.'

'What's Quidditch?' asked the brown-haired girl, just before Kate. Bunder nudged his friend.

'Andy, you're up.'

Andy, a Beater on the house team, launched into a detailed explanation of the rules and history of the game as dinner made way for dessert.

* * *

As the evening began to wind down, everyone started introducing themselves.

'Malfoy, Draco Malfoy' the blonde boy smiled smugly as he spoke, as if his name should automatically mean something. He was flanked by two small trolls disguised as first years; Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle sneered and loomed with an air of malicious stupidity.

Pansy Parkinson was deep in conversation with Blaize Zambini and Millicent Bulstrode. Tracey Davis, sitting opposite Kate, got into a heated discussion with John Bunder about whether or not maths should be on the school curriculum.

'There's no calculators here. The batteries don't work for some stupid reason.' Andy stabbed at his ice-cream with a spoon. 'Hufflepuff has a black market for stationery; they can get you pens, pencils, white-out, whatever you like.'

'Is it difficult to write with a quill?' asked Kate. Andy shrugged.

'Not so much, but it's a bitch to write essays with. You've got to be careful or you'll smudge the ink. Gets all over your hands.'

'What about computers?' asked Tracey. There was a snapping sound and the girls swivelled towards the noise; a fourth-year boy was white-knuckling a chocolate wand in one fist and staring blankly ahead. A classmate eased his face gently into the crook of her shoulder; the boy let out a traumatised whimper, clinging to her collar. Tracey stared at Kate, who shrugged. Andy swallowed the last of his ice-cream.

'No computers, or Internet. You'll be writing assignments out by hand.'

' _By hand?!_ ' exclaimed Tracey.

'But what about research?' Kate asked.

'There're plenty of books in the library, if you like that sort of thing' sniffed Bunder. He stretched and yawned. 'I usually just copy what Andy's done.'

'Yeah' scowled Andy, 'You're going to have to do your own work at some point you know'

'Never!'

* * *

Eventually the plates were cleared and everyone settled down again as Dumbledore rose to his feet.

'Ahem – just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start of term notices to give you.'

'First years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well. I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.'

'Aww what?!' Kate gaped, open-mouthed. 'That's unfair! That stinks.'

'Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madame Hooch.' Kate jiggled excitedly and made a mental note.

'And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.'

'Bloody hell' breathed Andy, raising an eyebrow. There was a smattering of laughter ripple through the hall but it broke very quickly.

'Why have they booby-trapped the third floor?' asked Kate.

'Dunno' replied Bunder.

'And now,' continued Dumbledore, 'before we go to bed-' Andy and Bunder buried their heads in their hands with loud groans. Some of the older students scrambled slowly to their feet; Malfoy and his little clique stayed seated, haughtily staring pointedly into their laps and goblets. '-let us sing the school song!'

Dumbledore raised his wand; a golden ribbon flew out, twisting to shape words. 'No, no, no' Andy whispered repeatedly, banging his head gently against the edge of the table. Kate and Tracy leaned forward, patting him gently on either shoulder.

'Everyone pick their favourite tune, and off we go!'

Kate sat and listened to one of the most discordant music recitals she had ever heard in her life. There was no uniform beat to it, no common rhythm; everyone stopped and started, voices not so much singing as screaming or bellowing the words. Eventually, the 'song' eventually finished and Kate blinked, clapping.

She shuffled out of the hall with the rest of Slytherin house, waving good night first at Harry and then Neville as they passed each other. A tall girl, Slytherin Head Girl badge pinned to her chest, cleared her throat and gestured emphatically. 'First years, to the front with me please!'

Kate jogged wearily forward; Millicent Bulstrode shoved her back a step behind her with her elbow, and Kate frowned, rubbing her arm ruefully.

If it had been cold outside, it was freezing down in the dungeons. They descended a set of thick stone steps on one side of the great hall, followed a twisting path along several corridors, and came to a halt beside a blank stone wall. Kate tried to breath some life back into her hands and not let her teeth chatter too loudly.

'Ah-hem. Maledictus'

Kate gasped around a yawn as the wall slid sideways. A welcoming wave of warm air rolled out as she stepped forward. Everything had been roughly carved from the castle's bedrock; the décor was all dark lacquered wood and overstuffed leather armchairs, and several stained-glass hanging lamps and enormous, carved fireplaces illuminated the long, low room. Enormous windows looked out into darkness.

Kate frowned; it didn't look like sky outside and they were too low to the ground not to see stars. The first years were ushered into the middle of the room, the head girl stepping out in front.

'Good evening everyone, welcome to Slytherin. Now, I know this house has a bit of a … difficult reputation, but I can assure you that we are just as nice as the rest of the school. Please check the noticeboard-' she gestured towards a large corkboard covered in fliers which was hanging next to the entrance, '-to find out what the day's password is. It changes weekly, so stay on top of it!'

'Breakfast will be served at eight o'clock sharp, with classes starting at nine. You will be receiving your term schedules from Professor Snape tomorrow, so don't worry about it too much. Also, please ask for directions if you get lost; it's a big castle, and you're new, so please don't feel embarrassed about not knowing how to get to class.'

'Boys, your dormitories are down there-' she pointed to an archway set towards the back of the room, to left side, beside one of the windows. '- and girls, yours are over there. The windows look out into the lake, so don't be alarmed if a mermaid or two swim up and say hello. They can't speak through the glass but they'll wave and if you want to hold a conversation with them, they do know sign language.'

'That will be all for now, so good luck with everything, and welcome to Slytherin!'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically Kate is a Halfblood, not a Muggleborn. Her grandmother was a Squib, so although her father's a Muggle, her mother still had the potential to be a witch.
> 
> Also, I 'borrowed' Andy and John Bunder from Critical Role and the Club of Misfits...because..
> 
> Look, I'm a massive nerd ok?!
> 
> ...and sometimes I can't think of my own extras


	8. A Friend, An Enemy, And A Curious Coincidence

Kate rolled over and snuggled deeper into her blankets, drool dribbling down her chin as she snored.

_Tap. Tap-tap. Tap._

A pair of small furry paws prodded Kate firmly in the ear. Blearily, she opened a sleep-encrusted eye to find Smudge’s nose snuffling above her, less than an inch away from her eyebrow.

‘G’morning buddy’

‘Puurr’

_Tap. Tap._

Kate stretched and rubbed her eyes, looked around, then rubbed her eyes again. The dormitory was bathed in flickering green light filtering in from underneath the lake through a massive window. Floating in front of it, smiling face pressed up against the thick glass, was a mermaid.

Kate gasped and jumped out of bed, tiptoeing when she realised that everyone else was still asleep.

It looked more like a siren than a mermaid. A thick shimmering tail faded into mottled grey skin, a pug-like face with a yellow rat-toothed smile, and a wild halo of dark green hair. Several necklaces of interestingly-shaped stones and teeth hung around its neck.

The mermaid started moving its hands in quick deliberate motions, deftly signing a sentence and cocking its head questioningly at Kate. She dashed back to her trunk, pulling out a quill and ink, and a notebook, wrote

_Hello. My name is Kate._

_I’m afraid I don’t know sign language._

The mermaid nodded and swam down and out of sight, bobbing back into view carrying an armful of seaweed. It peeled off several long strands and arranged them so that they hung in the water before it, spelling out

_Good morning Welcome to Hogwarts_

‘Aw’ Kate smiled, blushing, and wrote

_Thank you!_

The mermaid gave one final wave and, with a wave of its tail, it slipped away into the lake’s murky depths.

Kate put the writing implements away and went looking for the bathroom. She found it tucked away in the far corner of the common room; when she opened the door, her jaw nearly dropped off.

The tap fittings and showerheads were coated gleaming gold, with several thick bathtubs carved from the same polished marble as the floor. There were heavy lockable wooden screens shielding each tub from view, and the showers were set in shuttered alcoves next to a long line of sinks.

Kate checked her watch. It was only six thirty, so she had plenty of time to have a bath, get ready and find her way to the Great Hall.

‘This...is..AMAZING’ Kate giggled with delight as she found a tap labelled ‘bubbles’ and watched thick white foam begin swirling through the bathwater. She bathed, dressed, and wandered out of the common room just as the rest of Slytherin began to wake up.

The dungeon corridors were winding but after a few false starts Kate successfully managed to retrace her steps from last night to the Great Hall. Breakfast was just as lavish as dinner had been, so Kate ignored the cereals and went straight for bacon and baked beans. She was halfway through a slice of apricot jam toast when Andy and John showed up.

‘Enjoy your first night?’ John asked, once both boys had made themselves coffee. Kate nodded enthusiastically, then pointed down the table.

‘Are we allowed to sit with our friends?’

Every few feet or so a whirl of blues, yellows or reds mingled alongside the green.

‘After this morning, yeah’ chewed John, swallowing some toast. ‘Snape’ll be here soon with class schedules, then we can sit wherever we want.’

Kate helped herself to grapes, apricot slices, and was finishing everything off with a large hot chocolate when a shadow fell across the table.

Kate looked up.

And shivered.

Kate did not like Professor Snape.

He loomed, gaunt and vulture-like. Long strands of thin greasy black hair hung limply in front of two Stygian pits. A pale hand shoved a slip of paper under Kate’s nose; she took it, and Snape stalked away.

* * *

Harry’s anonymity lasted until just after lunch. Someone in Hufflepuff had been unable to keep their mouth shut and suddenly everywhere he went he was being pointed at, whispered about, and openly stared at.

That evening, while Neville and Kate sat sandwiched between Harry and a Hufflepuff first year called Ernie MacMillan, Draco Malfoy strolled over, minions in tow.

‘Is it true then? You’re the famous Harry Potter?’

Harry kept eating but turned towards him, stifling a sigh.

‘It’s Harry Jones now but yes, I suppose I am.’

‘This is Draco Malfoy’ Kate chimed in. She thumbed over at the other two boys. ‘That’s Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.’

She nodded at Draco. ‘He’s very posh.’

‘Well at least I’ve got pedigree’ sneered Draco. He turned back to Harry. ‘You don’t want to be hang around riff-raff like that-‘ he pointed at Kate and Neville, who shuffled uncomfortably, ‘-if you want to make a decent impression.’

‘I don’t’ said Harry cooly, and he turned away. Draco blushed lightly and turned on his heel, stomping angrily back to the Slytherin table.

Later that evening, Draco ambushed Kate just outside the girls dormitories.

‘What on Earth does Potter see in you?’ he sneered.

‘A decent human being with manners.’

* * *

The layout of the castle was dizzying. It took a few days for Kate’s internal compass to adjust but by the end of the week she trusted her feet to get her to class on time.

She hated navigating the moving staircase but enjoyed looking up at it. There was something very soothing about the carved structure gently whizzing back and forth like an enormous executive toy. She chatted with the portraits on the various landings; they were full of contradictory information, but highly intelligent and very interesting.

The ghosts were also happy to stop and chat. They were better at giving directions but because they followed their own paths through the castle you were always in danger of stepping through several of them. It was not a pleasant experience.

Her classes were interesting. It was very difficult to pick which one excited her the most but easily the most boring was History of Magic, which was a shame. Kate had been looking forward to it immensely, but Professor Binns was an absolutely terrible public speaker.

Kate found Herbology and Charms much easier than Magical Theory and Transfiguration. Professor Forster was scruffy and dishevelled, with a mop of unruly black hair, but he spoke crisply with a loud clear voice and gave Smudge a long scratch under his chin. Professor McGonagall was as strict as Kate had imagined, tolerated Smudge only because he sat very still on Kate’s shoulders, and only smiled once during their entire first lesson, when a bushy-haired Gryffindor girl in the front row managed to turn a matchstick into a needle.

‘How did you do that?’ asked Kate, cornering the girl in the corridor the second class was over. ‘I couldn’t even get my matchstick to change colour’

The girl looked pleased and held out a hand.

‘I’m Hermione Granger’

Kate shook her hand. ‘Kate Richardson’

‘It’s really very simple’ Hermione continued, just as Neville stumbled up. ‘You just have to concentrate, that’s all. Clear your mind and concentrate.’

* * *

On Friday Kate had her first Potions lesson. Harry had already had his earlier that week and warned both her and Neville to be careful.

‘Snape’s a monster! He kept picking on me for no reason’ he huffed angrily at dinner, ‘He kept calling me ‘Potter’-‘

‘Sneered it, actually’ Ernie chimed in.

‘-and he kept asking me loads of obscure questions and tutting all the time. He even took points off me for no reason! He really hates me!’

Keeping all this in mind, Kate nervously made her way down into the dungeons, to the most interesting classroom to date. Labelled jars of pickled ingredients lined the walls; large bundles of herbs hung, drying, from the ceiling, and each trestle table had little firepits set into them with which to heat a cauldron. Neville bagged a table near the middle of the room and Kate joined him.

They pulled out their books and chatted amicably for a little while until a wooden door at the side of the classroom abruptly swung open and Professor Snape swept into the room. He took the roll call, then stood at the front of the classroom, hands clasped in front of him, his expression cold.

‘You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making’ he whispered. Kate was grateful she had excellent hearing; she would hate to have to explain to Snape that his lack of volume was why she was failing his class. Not that she thought she would fail.

‘As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic.’

‘I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…’ Kate squirmed awkwardly in her seat. She couldn’t quite put her finger on why, but she felt distinctly uncomfortable by the tone of Snape’s voice.

‘…I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death…if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.’

Kate sat, stunned. Teachers weren’t allowed to insult their students, were they? Especially not to their faces. Neville’s jaw had dropped; Kate glanced at him and they exchanged worried looks.

‘What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?’ Snape barked sharply. Something vague stirred in Kate’s memory; she thought for a moment, then hesitantly raised her hand.

‘Yes?’

‘I’m not sure’ it wasn’t the best first impression she could have made but Kate pressed on. ‘I’m not sure but I think it’s the Draught of Living Death? It’s a sleeping potion.’ The name had stuck, and some of the listed ingredients, she wasn’t entirely sure that she was right.

Snape gave a curt nod and Kate relaxed. ‘Correct. Five points to Slytherin.’

‘Where would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?’ Kate raised her hand immediately.

‘A bezoar is a lump of hair that forms in the stomach of a goat’ she answered confidently. ‘You can sometimes find them in people too, or other animals that regularly groom themselves by licking. A bezoar protects against poison, but only simple poisons.’

‘Correct again. Five points to Slytherin.’

Kate beamed proudly. It was the most house points she had earned since starting school.

‘What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?’ Snape tried to catch Kate’s eye, or any Slytherin, but no one lifted a finger. Kate had heard of both plants, but didn’t know what the answer to Snape’s question.

As she wracked her brain, she felt a slight jostle beside her; Neville had tentatively raised his hand, stopped, and dropped it back onto his lap. Kate shot him an encouraging look and made a _go for it_ gesture under the table. Neville swallowed, sweating, and stretched his hand up.

‘Yes?’

‘Um..it’s-um.. there-there is no difference.’

Snape’s face was impassive, unreadable, and Kate had to make another encouraging gesture before Neville would continue.

‘They’re the same plant. Its other name is aconite.’

Neville’s voice trailed off self-consciously towards the end. There was a beat of silence, and then Snape’s face contorted into a rictus expression of loathing.

‘Correct. Two points to Gryffindor.’

He sounded like a man admitting a painfully personal secret. Neville slumped back in his chair, shaking slightly, and Kate grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight.

* * *

The rest of the lesson passed without incident, and when they left the classroom to head off to morning break an irritated Hermione marched over to them.

‘How did you know the answers to Professor Snape’s questions? Did you memorize the books too?’

‘You memorized the _whole book?!_ ’ Kate gaped, incredulous.

Hermione seemed struggle for a moment between being annoyed and being flattered. ‘Well, yes. We should know what they’re going to be teaching us, don’t you think?’

‘Yes, but I didn’t memorise the whole book. To be honest, I just got lucky and remembered the right part of it. And also, bezoars are in muggle literature about magic too, so I already knew about them.’

‘I like plants’ mumbled Neville.

* * *

That afternoon Harry, Kate and Neville raced down a rocky path at the edge of the castle, winding along a slope down towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid had sent them an invitation via the morning post to come and have afternoon tea with him in his house on the grounds, and they had eagerly accepted. Technically the note had only mentioned Kate and Harry, but they felt sure Neville would be allowed in too.

The sturdy wooden shack stood a few metres from the tree line, with a pumpkin patch ploughed into the earth to one side. Kate enviously eyed the crossbow hanging on a nail beside the front door. Harry knocked and there was a volley of loud, throaty barks as something heavy tried to batter its way through the door. Smudge jumped down from Kate’s shoulders and hid beneath the stairs; he was tolerant of, and tolerated by, most animals, but dogs were unpredictable. He was a cat, after all.

‘¬Back, Fang-back’ Hagrid opened the door and the enormous black boarhound he was trying to restrain stretched forward as far as it could, sniffing and slobbering and nearly choking itself on its own collar.

‘AWWW!’ Kate pushed forward and held out a hand, grinning even wider when Fang sniffed and then licked her open palm.

‘Here ya go’ Hagrid passed her a dishcloth as the trio stepped forward into the hut. ‘Sorry ‘bout that, he’s a bit excitable, is all’

‘That’s alright’ said Kate, wiping her hand clean. Fang sniffed her face and she scratched him behind one ear. ‘Who’s a good boy? Eh? Are you a guard dog are you? Eh?’

Fang thumped his tail enthusiastically and drooled again.

* * *

Hagrid shook Neville’s hand and plied the three with rock cakes and tea while he asked them about their first week. Kate liked the inside of Hagrid’s hut; it was warm and cosy, with rough-cut wooden beams and a roaring fire behind a polished iron grate. There were bundles of dead birds and fresh herbs drying in the rafters, and the furniture was plush and comfortable.

‘Snape really seems to hate me’

‘Rubbish!’ said Hagrid, as Harry finished telling the story of his first Potions class. ‘Why should he?’

‘He’s definitely got a chip on his shoulder about something,’ Kate chimed in, ‘When I got a question right in our first lesson he gave me five points, but when Neville got a question right he only gave him two points. And he looked really, really bitter about it too.’

‘That’s just house favouritism, it ain’t nothing personal about yeh’ said Hagrid. He leant forward to push Fang’s nose away from the plate of biscuits, and pulled a drool-soaked newspaper out of the danger zone.

‘Did yeh hear about the break-in at Gringotts?’ he asked. Kate’s mouth dropped open and Harry looked equally shocked.

‘No, when was this?!’ Kate asked, as Harry snatched up the newspaper. She leant over to read the article as well just as Harry noticed the date.

‘The break-in happened on my birthday!’ Harry pointed at the print and turned towards Kate. ‘It might have been happening while we were there!’

Hagrid made a non-committal grunt and offered Neville another rock cake.

‘They must have been professionals because I didn’t see anything’ said Kate, disappointed. ‘I can’t believe I missed out on seeing a wizard bank robbery. That would have been so cool.’

Hagrid looked up sharply. ‘Wizards duellin’ ain’t summit yeh ever want to see, believe me. Violent and messy, and summit no decent person should have ter witness, ‘specially someone as young as yerself.’

* * *

Hagrid plied them with rock cakes and sent them on their way just before dinner. As they trudged back towards the castle, Kate turned towards Harry.

‘Are you okay? You’re very quiet’

‘Just thinking’ he said. They stopped to get their breath back and Harry looked thoughtful.

‘Hagrid and I visited a vault when we went to Gringotts. Vault seven hundred and thirteen. There was a grubby little package inside that he said he was collecting for Dumbledore. He acted like it was a very big deal; like it was a secret.’

‘Gringotts must have hundreds of vaults’ Kate pointed out, ‘It probably wasn’t that one.’

‘The article said the vault had been emptied that day.’

‘What if you’d bumped into the robbers?’ asked Neville, turning pale.

‘What if the package has something to do with why we’re not allowed up on the third floor?’ said Kate. Then she laughed. ‘What if Snape’s the one who tried to steal it and he knows you got there before him and that’s why he hates you?’

Harry chuckled and the colour came back to Neville’s cheeks. They gathered their robes around them and walked into the castle, speculating wildly and thinking about secret treasure hoards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could have included "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself thanks" instead of my poor attempt at giving Harry an equally cutting putdown of Draco but I'm afraid it just didn't make it. My apologies.


	9. Previously, On Tuesday

Kate was doing the jiggling dance of the caught-short by the time she finally found a bathroom. It was hidden around the corner of an out-of-the-way corridor on the first floor, behind a chipped oak door with ‘girls’ bathroom’ carved near the top.

She opened it and stopped short. Even the disused classrooms in the castle were meticulously cared for. This room looked horrifying by comparison. Kate’s bladder gave another sharp squeeze so she ignored the cracked floor tiles, water-stained mirrors, and crumbling plaster in favour of dashing into one of the cubicles and sitting down just in time.

Someone was crying.

Now that she had a moment to listen, there was somebody else in a nearby stall, sobbing their heart out. She finished her business, washed her hands, and crept softly along the row.

‘Are you ok?’

The crying stopped. There was a brief pause, then Kate nearly jumped out of her skin as a translucent head and torso pushed through the door in front of her.

The ghost of a young girl was glaring at her. She was short and stocky, with stringy hair and a round face covered in pimples. She sniffed, and glared dolefully at Kate.

‘What?’

‘What’s the matter?’

The girl glared at her. 

‘As if you care. Nobody ever cares! No one wants to listen to glum, miserable, stroppy, moaning Myrtle!’ 

And with a piercing wail she burst into tears and flung herself down the toilet. 

Kate dropped her leather satchel and plonked cross-legged down onto the cold tiles. She leaned against the doorframe, tilting her head so that she could see the stall in the corner of her eye.

‘My name’s Kate’ she said. The ghost didn’t answer. She stopped herself from looking directly over her shoulder and kept her head facing forward.

‘I’ll listen. I’ll really listen, I promise!’

The toilet said nothing.

‘I’ve got nowhere else to be. Well, I’ve got Magical Theory in half an hour but that’s ages away. Come on, tell me what’s wrong. Please. Maybe I can help’

The top of a head and two puffy eyes cautiously bobbed into view. Kate slowly turned her head towards Myrtle and looked at her expectantly. 

‘Peeves was bullying me’

Kate nodded but did not speak. Myrtle rose up out of the toilet, hovering just off the ground beside her. She sniffed and rubbed her eyes.

‘Peeves always bullies me. Everyone says nasty things about me; always whispering behind my back or laughing in my face. Nobody ever comes in here anymore unless they want to mock me.’

Kate said nothing.

Myrtle drifted closer, crouching next to Kate and curling in on herself like a ball of wispy smoke. They stayed like that for an age; not talking or looking at each other, simply finding a small measure of comfort from another’s presence.

‘I suppose you should go now’ Myrtle gulped after a while, looking down at the watch on Kate’s wrist. ‘You’ll be late for class otherwise.’

Kate nodded and stood, brushing herself down and picking up her bag.

‘Would..would you like to come and visit me again?’ Myrtle said, hesitantly.

‘I’d love to,’ Kate replied. ‘How about Saturday? Or I can come around earlier this week, if you want?’

Myrtle smiled, a true if slightly watery one this time.

‘Saturday sounds lovely’

‘Alright, well I will see you then’ Kate waved goodbye and slipped out the bathroom door.


	10. Bathrooms and Broomsticks

Harry and Neville, once Kate had told them about Myrtle, had insisted on accompanying her to the bathroom so, on Saturday morning, the trio glanced around furtively to make sure nobody was watching, then made a mad dash inside.

‘You’ve brought more people to torment me!’ Myrtle accused, her eyes filling with tears as soon as she saw the two boys.

‘We’re not here to pick on you, we just wanted to meet Kate’s new friend’ said Harry, Neville nodding and hovering nervously by his left elbow.

‘I would never be friends with a bully’ Kate said firmly. She gathered her robes around her and sat down on them like a cushion. ‘Besides, Harry and Neville have both been picked on before; they’d never put somebody else through that.’

‘Yeah’ Neville sat down as well, giving Myrtle a shy smile. She hovered uncertainly for a few moments, nervously wringing her hands, before gathering her courage and drifting down to settle in the floor next to Kate.

‘Did..um..do you always haunt this place?’ asked Harry, glancing about. ‘It must be pretty lonely.’

‘Nobody wants to visit me anyway’ Myrtle admitted testily. She blinked and shrugged, patting down her skirt.

‘Did you die in this bathroom?’ mumbled Neville. Myrtle’s head shot up; a beaming smile lit up her face and she puffed up her chest proudly.

‘Oooh I did! It was dreadful!’ Myrtle suddenly bobbed up from the floor like a balloon, floating along until she came to a stop beside one of the toilets. She pointed towards it.

‘I died in this very cubicle. I remember it so well. I’d hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a boy speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then –‘ Myrtle puffed up a tiny bit more, ‘I _died_.’

‘How?’ asked Kate, confused.

‘No idea. I just remember seeing a pair of great big yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up and then I was floating away…’

‘A pair of yellow eyes?’ asked Neville. The trio shared a look.

‘Where did you see the eyes?’ asked Kate. Myrtle gestured vaguely towards the sink opposite the cubicle.

‘They were somewhere over there’

‘You heard a boy speaking?’ asked Harry, ‘Someone you didn’t know?’

‘I didn’t recognise his voice’ said Myrtle. She beamed again. ‘Olive Hornby found me. Oooh, she didn’t forget it until her dying day, I made sure of that. Followed her round and reminded her, I did-‘

‘You can leave Hogwarts?’ Harry’s mouth dropped a little in surprise. Myrtle returned to the group, shaking her head.

‘Not anymore unfortunately. Olive went to the Ministry of Magic to stop me stalking her, so I had to come back here and live in my toilet.’

‘Rude of them’ said Kate. ‘Well, you can come by the Slytherin girl’s bathroom any time you want’

Myrtle blushed. ‘Thanks.’

* * *

The living situation in the girl’s dormitory lasted until the second week of term, when Kate returned from History of Magic on Monday afternoon to discover Millicent Bulstrode rummaging through her trunk.

‘ _EXCUSE ME WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!_ ’

Millicent got up off the floor with a shrug. She slung her bag over one shoulder, shoving past Kate and stomping silently off out through the door.

A low hissing growl and a frightened meow suddenly rang out from the corner. Kate whirled around; Millicent’s cat Gryphon was hunched into a fluffy ball of spiteful rage, hissing and swiping at Smudge who was desperately ducking and backing away.

 _ **No**_.

‘ _ **Get. the. hell. Away from MY CAT**_!!’

Kate grabbed Gryphon by the scruff of her neck, heaving the spitting moggy outside and slamming the door in its face. She scooped up Smudge and hugged his trembling body, peppering his head with kisses and whispering wordless reassurances into his fur.

When they had both stopped shaking, she repacked her trunk and stripped the bedsheets off her bed, carrying everything out into the hall. There were two empty room opposite the dormitory; Kate chose the one furthest to her right and shoved her belongings inside.

The new dormitory was a mirror of the previous one. It too had been carved directly into the bedrock of the castle, with polished walls, a black tiled floor, and a high domed ceiling. The window looking out into the lake was the same vivid green glass, and there were five four-poster beds covered in off-white dustsheets lined up along the wall.

Kate pulled the sheet off the bed closest to the far wall, coughing from the dust, and wrestled with the mattress until she managed to half-pull on the fresh sheets. She pushed her trunk underneath the bed, locked it, and left.

Later that night, after dinner, she returned to discover a very different, freshly cleaned room. Three of the beds had been removed; the remaining two beds had been properly made-up, the frames dusted, and were now flanking the door on either side. She checked under the bed on the left; her chest was there, locked and exactly the same as she had left it.

* * *

The second Thursday afternoon of term marked Slytherin and Gryffindor’s first flying lesson together. Kate hoovered up her lunch and jogged out the Great Hall, practically dragging Neville along behind her. They were the first students to arrive but two rows of broomsticks were lined up on the grass; Kate was itching to touch them but she managed to stop herself, stuffing her hands into her pockets and biting her lip.

While they waited, Neville pulled a small, round object from his robe pocket.

‘Why did you bring that?’ Kate sighed.

The clear orb clasped gently in Neville’s hand was a Remembrall; his grandmother had sent it to him that morning, just in time to remind him that he had forgotten to wear his robe. If the cloud inside the ball turned scarlet, he had forgotten something. If the cloud stayed grey and lifeless, nothing was wrong.

‘I didn’t want to forget it’ Neville rolled it between his hands, ‘Besides, I can’t use it if I leave it in my dormitory.’

‘True’

The rest of Slytherin trickled out of the school, followed by Gryffindor and then, finally, Madam Hooch. Kate had seen her around the place a few times; her yellow cat’s eyes were slightly unnerving, but friendly.

‘Well, what are you waiting for?’ Madam Hooch barked. ‘Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.’

Kate smiled; she had been standing next to a broomstick for the last ten minutes.

The rest of the class shuffled into position. ‘Stick out your right hand over your broom and say “Up!”’

‘UP!’

Kate’s broom leapt from the ground. She muffled an ecstatic squeak and glanced beside her; Neville, arm outstretched, was shakily pleading with the broomstick lying immobile at his feet. He took a deep breath in, let it out, and tried again. This time the broom rose slowly up into Neville’s palm.

Madam Hooch marched along the row, correcting the way different children were holding their broom’s handle and showing everyone how to sit on their broom without falling off. The girls were shown two ways; side-saddle, or sitting ‘tall’ like most witches in Muggle media. Kate found either was comfortable, but sitting tall made her feel a lot safer.

Madam Hooch fished a silver whistle from beneath her cloak and held it up to her lips. ‘Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle- three – two –'

Neville, sweating buckets, pushed off from the ground hard before the whistle sounded. Kate made a swipe for his arm as he rocketed upwards but she missed him by inches and could only watch, horrified, as he shot straight up into the sky, lost his grip and plummeted back down into the earth.

‘NEVILLE!’ Kate rushed over and gingerly helped him to his feet. He was moaning softly to himself, his face pained and ghostly white, clutching his right hand to his chest.

‘He’s broken his wrist, Professor’ Kate wrapped Neville’s left arm around her shoulder, propping him up as best as she could. ‘Do you want me to take him to the infirmary?’

‘No, no, give him to me’ Madam Hooch gently extricated Neville from Kate, and turned to the rest of the class. ‘None of you move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you’ll be out of Hogwarts before you can say “Quidditch”. Come on dear.’ Kate patted Neville on the shoulder and Madam Hooch led him away.

‘Did you see his face, the great lump?’ crowed Malfoy, as soon as Madam Hooch disappeared. Kate whirled towards him.

‘You try not crying with a broken wrist!’

‘oOOh!’ Malfoy mimed hurting his hand, then shoved past Kate and bent down, scooping something up off the grass. Kate’s heart sank; Malfoy rolled Neville’s Remembrall around between his fingers, then held it up to the sunlight and inspected it.

‘Give that here!’ Kate demanded.

‘No’ said Malfoy, smiling broadly. He picked up his broom and hopped on it, zooming up into the sky. ‘I think I’ll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to collect..how about..up a tree?’

‘Fine, I’ll get it later then’ said Kate, turning away. Malfoy frowned and flew back down. The rest of the class, bored now, turned away and started chatting amongst themselves.

‘Fine, I’ll keep it’

‘You can’t keep it, it’s Neville’s!’

‘Oh yeah, try and stop me’ Malfoy sneered. Crabbe and Goyle ambled up beside him, cracking their knuckles threateningly. Kate raised an eyebrow.

‘Very brave’ she scoffed.

‘I’ll teach you, you nasty little Mudblood’ Malfoy hissed. ‘Wizard’s dual, twelve o’clock tonight. Wands only, no contact. Never heard of a wizard’s duel before, I suppose.’

‘Don’t be stupid, of course I have’ said Kate, who was only guessing. ‘In the common room, I suppose?’

Another evil grin crept across Draco’s face. ‘Oh no, we’re going to go somewhere no one will disturb us. How about the trophy room? That’s always unlocked.’

‘Fine, meet you there.’


	11. The Hardest Part of Learning Magic is Knowing When Not To Use It

‘Congratulations, you will be continuing your education after all’ Madame Hooch announced, once she returned. ‘Now, can you all please line up and we will try this again.’

Kate mounted her broom, wriggling slightly with anticipation.

‘Now, on my whistle. Three…two… _Hweeeeeehhh_ ’

Kate kicked and the broom bobbed gently up, her stomach following half a second after the rest of her. A bolt of panic ran up her spine and she gripped the broom handle tightly, breathing slowly to try and calm her racing heart.

Then the euphoria clicked in.

Kate clamped her mouth shut against a wave of hysterical giggles, failing to keep the slightly-manic smile off her face. She cracked halfway through class, but managed not to cackle.

‘Miss, miss!’

‘Yes, Miss Richardson, what is it?’

‘Can I do a barrel roll?’

Madame Hooch scrutinised her, glancing up and down.

‘Hmm…I will allow it- _once and only once!_ -since we have nearly reached the end of the lesson. And no more than a foot from the ground.’

Kate nodded eagerly, brought the broom down low, and threw all her weight to the right.

‘WHEEEEEEEEE!!’

* * *

‘A wizard’s dual?!’ cried Neville, alarmed. Kate slapped his good shoulder.

‘Shush! Keep your voice down!’

Neville’s wrist had been mended and was now in a sling; Kate had gone to collect him from the hospital wing straight after class; they were sitting on a bench in a first-floor corridor, tucked beneath some stairs.

‘Don’t be silly, I’m not actually going to fight him’ said Kate.

‘But..but then how am I going to get my Remembrall back?’ Neville’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I don’t _want_ you to fight Malfoy but I’ve only had it for a day, and I’ve already lost it, and-’

‘Easy, easy! Breathe! I’ll get it back, I’m just not going to fight Malfoy, that’s all!’

‘But how?!’

‘Don’t worry, I have a plan’ said Kate, breezily.

Just then Professor Flitwick rounded the corner, a bundle of papers clutched under his arm.

‘Professor! Professor Flitwick!’

Kate jogged to a halt in front of him as he strode towards them.

‘Yes, my dear?’

‘Professor Flitwick, I was wondering if there were any spells that can scare somebody to death. Like with illusions, or something similar.’

Kate had been asking all sorts of strange questions since the beginning of term, so Flitwick was used to it by now.

He scrunched up his face for a moment, thinking deeply.

‘There are certain powerful illusionary spells which could certainly give someone a good fright. I’m not sure if they would _kill_ them; perhaps if the person in question had a weak heart.’

He waggled a finger at her. ‘There are a handful of very nasty curses around, including some which are designed to kill, but they are very advanced pieces of magic and _highly illegal_.’

Kate nodded solemnly.

‘Yes, Professor.’

‘Now, I’m afraid I must be off. Unless there was another quick question?’

‘No. Thank you, Professor’

As Flitwick headed off, Kate sat back down next to Neville, frowning.

‘Myrtle seems healthy, aside from being dead of course. Do you think an illusion could have frightened her to death?’

Neville shook his head.

‘No. I don’t think there’s anything scary about a pair of giant yellow eyes.’

‘Me either. Perhaps it was a creature of some kind, something that.. _stares_ people to death?’ Kate frowned. ‘That sounds stupid.’

‘Check Fantastic Beasts; there might be something in there’ Neville stood up, ‘You can look while we find Harry.’

Kate looped an arm around Neville’s elbow and allowed herself to be steered around while she flipped through the book.

‘Hey, I think I found it!’

Neville stopped and Kate showed him the page. A woodcut of a massive, coiled serpent had been printed beside the text; it was enveloping a windmill while a group of wizards and witches looked on in horror. Its mouth was open, fangs bared and dripping venom, and its head was level with the people as if it was trying to swallow them whole.

‘ “The Basilisk is a brilliant green serpent that may reach up to fifty feet in length. It has exceptionally venomous fangs but its most dangerous means of attack is the gaze of its _large yellow eyes_! Anyone looking directly into these will suffer instant death”.’

‘That must be it!’ said Neville. He glanced at a sentence towards the end of the page. ‘ “Basilisks are uncontrollable except by Parselmouths, so they are as dangerous to most Dark Wizards as to anyone else.” Myrtle said she heard somebody speaking a strange language; they must have been speaking Parseltongue!’

‘Parselwhat?’ asked Harry, who was just coming in from outside. ‘Neville _what happened to your arm?!_ ’

‘My broom flew up too quickly and I fell off’ mumbled Neville, blushing furiously. ‘’s alright now. How was your flying lesson?’

Harry puffed up his chest, beaming.

‘It went really, really well! Professor Pryce says I’m a natural.’

‘Oh good! That’s great! I was wondering who’d be teaching the other class.’

Leland Pryce was one of the school’s Astronomy teachers and, apparently, the substitute flying instructor. A nervous young man with long brown hair, he was often seen wandering the corridors during daylight hours clutching a steaming cup of coffee and wearing sunglasses.

‘I think I’m going to sign up for the Quidditch team try outs next year’ Harry admitted tentatively. Try-outs had been held the week before, but since neither Neville, Harry or Kate could or had flown a broomstick yet, they had decided, after much deliberation, not to have a go in case they made fools of themselves. Kate let out a loud ‘yes!’ and flung her arms around Harry’s neck.

‘Quidd-itch budd-iies!’

* * *

After dinner, after the final cluster of students headed off to bed, Kate packed up the homework she had been doing to pass the time, and wandered out of the common room.

She jogged a few metres down to the right and around a corner, kneeling down and peering back the way she had come. Twenty minutes later, Draco Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle shuffled out into the freezing corridor, wrapping their robes around them as they stalked off in the opposite direction.

Once their voices had faded in the distance, Kate waited a further five minutes before doubling back.

She grinned. Time to put her plan into action.

The common room was empty, as was the hallway of the boys’ dormitory. Kate made an educated guess, crouched low, and slowly cracked open the first door on the left.

Her hunch paid off; the beds on either side of the door were empty, and the sliver of light spilling in from outside illuminated a trunk next to her elbow with the engraving ‘Goyle’.

Kate army-crawled into the room, carefully closing the door behind her and wriggling forward until she was safely hidden beneath Goyle’s bed. The bed next to his was also empty, but there was a dark figure lying in the third bed along the row.

One of Kate’s favourite books was _Five Goes To Demon’s Rocks_. The Famous Five were always having adventures which required the use of flashlights, stuffing them deep into their pockets or hurriedly switching them off whenever the bad guys showed up. Unfortunately, Kate hadn’t thought to pack a flashlight, and there was only minimal moonlight filtering through the dormitory window. Luckily, Kate was nothing if not creative.

Tracey had been kind enough to let her borrow her comfort toy, Peaches; the Glo Worm was made of plastic and covered with glow-in-the-dark paint that gave off a soft, warm light. Crawling forward again, Kate pulled Peaches from her pocket and bunched the end of her sleeve around it to hide the glow. She waved it slowly in front of the trunk underneath the second bed and wiggled happily; the brass nameplate said ‘Malfoy’.

The chest was locked.

Kate grimaced; she had always wanted to learn how pick locks, but she had never gotten around to it.

Kate froze, heart thudding, as the shadowed lump in the bed beside her muttered and rolled over. Her mother’s voice echoed in her memory. _Don’t stare. People can sense when someone’s staring at them_. She forced herself to look away, glancing at Draco’s bedside cabinet instead.

She blinked.

Sitting next to a pile of sweets, a discarded quill, and a bag of owl treats, nestled amongst a collection of neatly-folded letters, was the Remembrall.

She swallowed dryly, and risked a glance back at the shadowy figure above. The boy had settled down again, breathing even and slow.

Heart in her mouth, Kate tucked Peaches back into her pocket and half-shimmied, half-crawled forward, propping herself up on her right arm and straining to reach the Remembrall with her left. The tips of her fingers brushed the orb and for a moment she thought she had knocked it sideways. Her stomach lurched in panic, but the Remembrall remained still.

She swallowed a sigh of relief, pushed herself up a couple more inches and successfully rolled the orb into her palm.

She pocketed it, sliding slowly and carefully back to the dormitory door. She cracked it open and, after making sure no one was walking up or down the corridor, she crawled on her hands and knees back outside.

* * *

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

‘Students to the Common Room!’

Kate and Tracy yawned and pulled on their dressing gowns.

The common room was deserted save for Professor Snape, and the hunched, gleeful figure of Argus Filch. Draco Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle sat beside them on a sofa, looking upset.

‘Miss Davis, you are dismissed. Miss Richardson..’ Snape let the statement hang, stabbing a finger at the floor just in front of him. Kate hid a yawn behind her hand and stepped forward.

‘These three-’ Snape pointed to the boys, ‘-were caught lurking on the third floor. They said that you were in the trophy room.’

‘I’ve been here all night Professor’

‘Clearly’

Snape’s eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms. ‘Do you have any idea why they would think you were there, and not in bed?’

‘Draco challenged me to a wizard’s duel because I told him to stop teasing Neville’ Kate replied.

Snape’s eyes shrunk to slits and he glared at Draco, who flinched and looked at his feet.

‘Detention.’

The boys looked like they were about to protest but thought better of it when Snape’s glare intensified. He turned back to Kate, studied her carefully for a moment, and came to a decision.

‘You are dismissed’

He hooked a thumb towards the girls’ dormitories, then twirled around and stalked out of the room, Filch trailing along in his wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hasbro released "Glo Friends" in the 1980s; a bunch of different animals that all glowed in the dark. Some were plastic, others were vinyl, and they glowed either because of an inbuilt light or glow-in-the-dark paint.


End file.
